“What right do you have to take her?” I took two steps after her.
June stopped halfway up the stairs and looked back at me. “Your husband said yes. The whole family heard it.”
“Mommy!” Sophie squirmed in June’s arms, reaching out for me.
Derek came out of the bedroom and stood at the foot of the stairs. I turned to look at him. “Derek. Say something.”
He looked at me. Then at Sophie in June’s arms. His hands hung at his sides. Not one finger moved.
“Just let her stay up there a few days,” he said. “Mom’s right. You need rest. When you’re feeling better, we’ll bring her back.”
I looked at his face. Looked for a long time.
June kept climbing. Sophie cried out for me, voice breaking—”Mommy!” Once. Then again. June hushed her. “Mommy’s sick. Sophie has to be a good girl.”
My daughter, held in her arms, disappeared one stair at a time around the turn, into the light.
